Snow Wolf (60 page)

"Pick me up outside the Bolshoi
Theater in an hour."

frena shook her head in horror.
"Definitely, your brain has to be missing. The KGB are looking for you and
you want me to leave you outside their front door?"

"That's the last place they'll look
for me."

A car honked as Irena cut recklessly
across its path. She honked back and raised her arm in an angry gesture.

"Idiot!"

"What did you drive in the war,
lrena? A tank?"

She looked over and smiled. "A Zil
truck. Don't laugh, I was a good driver. I told you, most of the madmen on the
roads are drunk. At least I'm sober."

"The war's over, so take it easy on
the accelerator. The last thing we need is a militiaman troubling us for
speeding."

"Bah! You can talk about trouble!
You're the one who wants to be left at Dzerzhinsky Square."

The Skoda had suddenly left the Arbat and
then Stanski saw the red walls and the mustard-yellow buildings of the Kremlin.
On a broad cobbled street in front stood St. Basil's, its candycolored towers
soaring into the skyline. Minutes later lrena had turned into a series of
narrow cobbled streets near the Boishoi Theater and finally came out onto a
massive square.

A giant metal fountain stood in the
center, the water turned off in the icy temperature in case it froze and
cracked the metal, and traffic and trolley buses hurtled around it. Directly
across the square stood a huge seven-story yellow sandstone building.

Irena pointed to it. "Dzerzhinsky
Square. KGB Headquarters. The place once belonged to an insurance company before
Felix Dzerzhinsky, the head of the secret police, took it over."

Stanski saw a pair of massive brown oak
doors set in the front entrance. Searchlights ringed the top and uniformed
militiamen patrolled the pavement around the building.

Irena said, "The entrance to the
Lubyanka prison is around the back. There's a pair of big black metal gates and
security is tight-no one's ever escaped, anyone in Moscow will tell you
that." She looked at Stanski's face as he studied the building if your
friend's in there, you're wasting your time. if you think you can rescue her.
You'd be committing suicide to even try."

"Let me out over there."

He pointed to a huge wrought-iron archway
on the left side of the square opposite the KGB building. A sign above the
archway said "Lubyanska Arcade." The pavement was crowded with people
entering and leaving the arched entrance and beyond it Stanski saw lines of
drab-looking shops down either side of the arcade.

lrena drove over and pulled in but kept
the engine running. "Only the KGB could think of having a public shopping
arcade next to a house of torture."

Stanski opened the passenger door.
"An hour from now, at the Boishoi."

Irena touched his arm. "Be
careful."

He smiled at her as he climbed out and
then he slammed the car door and moved onto the crowded pavement.

Lukin looked at Anna Khorev's face as
they sat on the park bench.

She looked miserable and her eyes were
red from crying. The park was empty again. Pasha had taken the little girl
away. Lukin had seen the fear on Anna's face when she refused to let go of her
daughter. She had clung to the child as if her life depended on her. The little
girl was confused and upset and had started crying again, and the militiamen on
the gate had to help Lukin hold her mother down while Pasha took the child to
the car.

Tears had racked Anna Khorev's body as
she saw the car drive away. Then she slumped onto the bench, inconsolable, in
despair.

Lukin felt overcome by a terrible feeling
of guilt. He had put her through a terrible trauma; she had not seen her
daughter in well over a year. He had given her the child, and taken her away
again. He imagined Nadia in such a situation, having to endure the same trauma,
and he felt sick.

He understood her pain, wanted to tell
her so, but knew she wouldn't believe him. It was pointless. Besides, he was
becoming emotionally affected, not a good thing. He took a handkerchief from
his pocket and dabbed her wet face.

She pushed him away.

He touched her arm.

"Anna, before I take you back to the
Lubyanka we have to talk."

She pushed him away again.

"Don't touch me!"

Her tears had stopped but she seemed in
shock, her eyes glazed, and he wondered if she had gone over the edge. There
was something deeply disturbing about the look on her face and he wondered if
he should take her to a doctor.

Anna, look at me."

She didn't look back at him as she spoke,
the red eyes staring into space, pain in her voice. "Why have you done
this to me?

Why have you put me through this?"

"No matter what happens I thought
you would want to see Sasha again."

"Because I'm going to die?"

"I told you the alternative. And if
you help me, I'll do all I can to make sure that you be allowed to take your
daughter with you."

She looked at him, grief in her face.
"And what sort of life would that be for my daughter? Livina in the hell
of a camp in some frozen wasteland. You think she'd survive that?"

"At least you'd be together."

"She'd survive in the orphanage. In
a camp she'd be dead within a year."

Lukin sighed, not knowing whether to say
it, seeing the desolation in her face. "Anna, if you don't talk, it's not
only you who'll die. Sasha may die with you."

He saw her face turn white as she stared
at him. "No ... you couldn't do that. She's ... she's only a child ..

Lukin stood and looked down at her.

It's not up to me, Anna. But I know
Beria. And I know Romulka, the man who will interrogate you if I fail. They'd
do it if they can't make you talk. I'm going to be honest with you. Beria's
given me until tomorrow night. If I fail, I hand you over to him. He'll break
you, Anna, be certain of it. And once you're out of my hands I'll have no say
in the matter."

He looked down at her wet eyes.
"Help me, Anna. For Sasha's sake, help me find Stanski."

As Stanski walked through the crowded
Lubyansky Arcade, bodies pressed in on him, people bustling past and jostling
to squeeze into the tiny, drab shops that lined the arcade.

When he came out of the arcade at the far
end he was in a narrow cobbled street. He turned right and came around onto the
street opposite the side entrance of the west wing of KGB Headquarters. He saw
another pair of tall double oak doors like those at the front, but here there
was no guard. Twenty meters beyond the doors he noticed a cobbled street at the
back of the KGB building. It was crowded with parked military trucks and, a
couple of civilian cars.

He saw a pair of massive black gates set
between the stone walls and guessed it was the entrance to the Lubyanka prison.
Two uniformed guards stood beside a sentry hut, rifles slunover their
shoulders. Powerful searchlights ran the entire length of the top of the
building and every window had steel bars.

The place looked impenetrable.

Suddenly the guards stood back and the
gates swun- in and a covered Zil truck thundered out and turned left into the
traffic.

Stanski glimpsed a courtyard inside and
ranks of parked trucks and cars and then the gates swung shut again.

As he stood there one of the guards on
the gate noticed him. He turned around and walked back along the square.

One whole side of the square seemed to
consist of dingy cafes and restaurants. As he passed the window of a cafe he
saw a number of men in dark blue uniforms sitting inside. He guessed from their
appearance and uniform markings that they were guards from the prison on their
break.

He went inside the cafe and got in line
to pay for a glass of tea, then took his receipt to a stoutly built woman
serving behind the counter. She handed him the glass in a metal cup and he took
it to a table near the prison guards. '

He made a mental note of the guards' rank
and uniform markings. They were a hardened-looking bunch of men, talking in
whispers among themselves. He wondered if any of them were guarding Anna. If
she was alive.

There was a burst of coarse laughter from
behind.

When Stanski glanced around he saw a
flash of color. Half a dozen small, wiry men, their Uzbek faces brown and
wrinkled, were leaving their table and heading toward the door. Wisps of beards
dangled from their chins and their shortcropped heads were covered in brightly
colored skull caps. Some wore brightly dyed silk or cotton gowns over their
shoulders and they chatted in a dialect Stanski couldn't understand. They
looked like a flock of exotic birds in the drab surroundings.

He looked back at the KGB building across
the street. Suddenly he heard a jabber of excited voices and saw two of the
Uzbeks push their way to the window and stare out into the street. A distinctive
olive-green BMW had halted at a set of traffic lights in front of the cafd. The
Uzbeks pointed excitedly at the car and jabbered among themselves.

Stanski looked at the man and woman
seated in the BMW and his blood froze.

Lukin sat in the driver's seat, Anna
beside him.

Stanski could hardly believe his eyes. It
was definitely Lukin. The false hand was unmistakable, but this time it was a
metal hook. And Anna's face he saw clearly through the windshield.

Suddenly the traffic lights turned green
and the BMW started to move. Stanski stood up frantically and pushed past the
Uzbeks, knocking one of them over in his race toward the door.

As he stepped out, the BMW was already
moving away toward the back of Dzerzhinsky Square and the entrance to the Lubyanka.

Stanski broke into a run. He was hardly
aware of passersby staring at him; he was like a man possessed as he chased
after the BMW, wanting to wrench Lukin from the car, shoot him, grab Anna and
run.

Up ahead now the BMW halted in the middle
of the road, the right indicator on as it waited for a break in the oncoming
traffic to turn into the cobbled street that led to the Lubyanka.

Stanski kept running along the pavement,
pushing through the crowds, his eyes on the car.

Fifty meters. Forty.

He saw Lukin's fingers tapping the
steering wheel impatiently. Tapping. Tapping. Thirty meters. Twenty.

He moved out onto the road and as he ran
he kept his eyes on Lukin, watched the fingers still tapping on the steering
wheel, waiting for the traffic to let him pass. Ten meters. Close enough to get
a shot. He wrenched the Tokarev from his inside pocket.

At the angle he approached the BMW he
could see only the back of Anna's head, but he saw Lukin's face clearly, and
hate raged inside him like an inferno. Five meters. Lukin still hadn't turned
to see him. Stanski cocked and aimed the Tokarev.

Suddenly a truck coming in the opposite
direction screeched to a halt. Stanski saw the truck driver stare in disbelief
at the gun.

Just as he reached the BMW, Lukin applied
a burst of power, thinking the truck driver was stopping for him. The BMW
screeched forward and accelerated as it swung right toward the massive black
gates of the prison.

One of the guards hammered on the gates
and they swung open and the car disappeared inside.

Stanski caught a glimpse of Anna's face
before the guards swung the gates shut again. He swore as he quickly put the
gun away. Too late.

The Gates of Hell had opened and closed
and swallowed her up.

Henri Lebel opened his eyes.

Not that it mattered much because it was
dark. For a while he lay there, his body so stiff he couldn't even feel that
the hard wooden bed under him had no mattress. Whatever was in the syringe had
knocked him out cold for a long time. And then something clicked in his head
and he was filled with a terrible unease.

He got to his feet shakily, took a
cautious step forward and bumped into a stone wall. He stepped back and turned,
took three paces, his hand outstretched, and felt another wall. Four hesitant
paces to the left took him to a metal door.

He was in a cell, no question.

He stumbled his way back to the wooden
bed and sat down, overcome by a dreadful feeling of doom. The same black
feelings he had endured in Auschwitz returned.

He remembered what had happened at the
club. What did the colonel named Romulka want? But Lebel knew, and that thought
filled him with an even greater dread. He should never have got involved in
this. Never. He had signed his own death warrant. Or something worse than
death-harsh imprisonment in a labor camp.

As his body shook with fear he suddenly
heard voices outside, feet scraping on concrete, and a light burst on overhead,
blinding him, as the cell door opened.

He blinked and saw Romulka step into the
cell.

"So, our sleeping beauty is
awake."